Saturday, June 10, 2006

You know, if it was possible, I'd bitch slap myself hard across the face.

"That's what you get for being weak and pathetic!" I'd tell myself.

'Cause, you know, so what if someone really, really hurt you? You've got to reach a point where you think, "May he die a long, cold death in Hell" and just move on. Though, when I really think about it, I don't think I could really pull off that whole "Scorned Woman" act. I'm not sure if it's either just yellow-bellied cowardice, laziness, or if I'm too nice --- if it's the latter, it's an ongoing problem. That's why I consistently get disappointed by people --- 'cause, you think, just because you go out a limb for other people and you're always putting them in front of you...well, that doesn't mean jackshit at all, does it?

You know how some people will say, "Aw, it was nothing. You would have done the same for me?" Well...95% of the time, that's not true. Just because you'd do something nice, doesn't mean the other person would do the same.

So you know what that makes me?

It makes me a sucker.

That being said, I still don't think I have it in me to be a bitch to anyone --- nah. My thing is to fume inwardly and hold all of my disappointment and anger until it manifests itself in some form of depression. (Maybe I watch too much TV, 'cause I seem to be the only one who remembers that line from an episode of "Futurama"...but of course I watch too much TV. Now that I've gone on the whole "I'm-Never-Going-To-Date/Fall-In-Love Again" strike, I spend more time at home when I'm not with my friends...God, can you imagine if I had no friends? I would have probably killed myself by now.)

Yeah, so, I saw him yesterday, except he didn't see me --- which I guess is a good thing. I mean, not that it would have mattered. Being the stupid idiot that I am, I would have pretended to be fine and smiled at him and said hi and made some bullshit smalltalk. And then, I would have gone back to the office and in true, melodramatic Joan Jett fashion, clenched my fist and hissed, "I hate myself for loving you!"

You know what would be totally great? If we had a switch for our emotions --- I'd be in robot mode for the remainder of my life, 'cause it's like lately, it feels like the universe loves nothing more than to screw me over...which is really the most delusional thing for anybody to think. I mean, if God existed, I doubt He'd spend all of his time thinking, "Hmmm...how to make her life more miserable? Let me think..."

Nah. He's overseeing a world where little kids in Africa are born with HIV and their parents die of AIDS. He's watching as lunatics blow up buildings and kill others and themselves in His name. He's watching as little girls are abandonned in China, 'cause apparently, girls aren't worth as much as boys over there.

So, yeah, I'm seriously operating under delusions of grandeur if I think that some divine force in the universe is setting out to deliberately screw me over. In the grand scheme of things, there's so much misery going on out there, that it's more likely that we're all just fumbling around wondering what the fuck we're doing.

In other notes...has anybody seen pics of Angelina's baby? (Didn't even have to use her last name. You knew who I was talking about, didn't you?)

People are seriously fucked up and have nothing better to do with their fucking time, debating whether the kid's cute or not and still harping on the whole "Brad left Jen" issue.

Like, fucking get a life already.

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